


Margot Verger's Guaranteed, True, Tried and Tested Method of Emotional Pain Relief

by GentlyMorbid



Series: The Average Lives of Alana and Margot Verger-Bloom [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alana will too if she founds out, F/F, Heavy Angst, Self Harm, you will cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 13:59:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5130242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GentlyMorbid/pseuds/GentlyMorbid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fiasco at the Bloom household, Margot is home alone and emotionally breaking down. Will she end up doing something she regrets?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Margot Verger's Guaranteed, True, Tried and Tested Method of Emotional Pain Relief

Margot waited, until she was sure Alana wasn’t coming home to pick up anything she may have forgotten, and locked their bedroom door behind her. She had the whole mansion to herself for at least four hours, due to Alana being at work, part of which she would use to satisfy her overflowing need to quell the poison suffocating her from within.

Margot knew she didn’t need to rush, so as she set about the room, she began her ritual. As her breathing increased with anticipation, she located her secret drawer with her tools and opened it slowly, almost reverently.

She hadn’t laid eyes upon them for months, ever since Margot had met Alana all that time ago, in the stables of Verger Mansion. She needed to use them now, however. There was no going back and Margot couldn’t stop now after making this choice.

The barbarity of Alana’s parents’ reaction to their engagement two weeks ago had sent Margot spiralling down into a new low. Her first reaction, however, was to take care of her fiancé. They were as fragile as each other, at that moment, but they were Alana’s parents, not hers, Alana needed more affection than Margot did.

Margot had already faced various scenes similar due to her own family, mainly at the literal hands of her brother and father and could empathise with how Alana was feeling, though Alana was being her usual stubborn self, and refused to speak to Margot about how the visit had affected her.

Until Margot could get Alana to open up, this would be how she dealt with her inner turmoil. Alana chose to bury herself in her work, while Margot decided to engage in the more self-destructive behaviours that she had cultivated over the years of torment at the hands of her family.

Margot looked upon her roll of various knives, each glinting as silver as the day she had first bought them, despite being neglected for nearly nine months. She then laid out the roll, stroking each knife as if it were a lover.

Next came out the first aid supplies and the box of tissues. She couldn’t be too careful when it came to being safe and discreet. Margot gave a dry chuckle at the oxymoron.

Alana and Margot had been physically distant for the past week, which suited her just fine, in the context of what she was about to do. It made it easier for Margot to hide her wounds, which she was somewhat grateful for.

Besides, Alana was always discovering new scars inflicted by Mason, which meant that even if she did spot Margot’s new wounds in the heat of the moment, she would most likely dismiss them as having happened in the past. Margot had never been particularly skittish about her scars, but she could always put contingency plans in place if something were to come up.

Until her wounds had healed, she could always have her way with Alana without the lights on. Margot was skilled at knowing her fiancé’s body in the dark. Hopefully, Alana wouldn’t see this as unusual.

Margot selected one of her favourite knives: a folding knife, still as sharp as the first time she had used it, she was sure. She headed off to the on-suite bathroom to sterilise her chosen implement, before heading back to sit on her bed, mind and heart racing with the exhilaration and intensity of knowing what she needed to do.

She _did_ need this. It was all she could think about. All she could see when she closed her eyes was blood. She hated herself for not being able to make Alana’s parents accept their daughter. She wished she had done more to protect her beloved.

Margot unclasped her belt and took her pants off, but left her undergarments on. Her legs burned with knowledge and wanting. There were already very many healed scars on her thighs, but she could always make room for more.

The knife came down, slowly, as if for the first time, as Margot pulled it across her left thigh, feeling the sharp burn of the new cut being opened.

She held her breath, only exhaling when the first cut was done. Her breathing slowed a little, but then accelerated. One cut was not nearly enough to satisfy her need for blood, pain and punishment. So she went deeper and longer to sate her urges.

As one cut turned into five, and five turned into fifteen, Margot finally relinquished her hold on the now bloody knife onto a tissue, blood pooling and congealing on her thigh.

She sighed in relief, as adrenaline made its way through her system. She felt so much better. Whatever had worried her to drive her to this point was inconsequential now. Nothing mattered. There was only the relief, the blood, her steady breathing and her quieted mind.

After several minutes, she straightened up, as if newly awakened. Her body felt so relaxed. There was no emotional crisis in her head now. She could continue on anew. First, however, she had to clean up the evidence.

She grabbed a handful of tissues, making sure to cover every wound, and wiped away the congealed blood. Her thigh looked as good as new now. She then applied gauze and tape to her cuts, sighing in ecstasy as they stung.

The last thing she did, before putting her secrets away and getting rid of the bloody tissues, was to wash the bloody folding knife in hot water. From a glance, you couldn’t tell it had been used just a few minutes ago.

After everything was dealt with, Margot retrieved her pants, put them on and sat down gingerly. She knew her cuts would be inflamed shortly, but that’s just the way she liked it. She didn’t regret a second of what she had done because she knew she had to do it, in order to think and function clearly, for her sake and Alana’s.

Alana. All thoughts of her had been abandoned during her session with the knife, but now, all she could think about was how she wanted to feel her in her arms and taste her lips.

With renewed vigour, Margot stretched out, before grabbing her phone and calling Alana. Voicemail picked it up.

Margot sighed and spoke into the phone, “Hey, princess. I just wanted to tell you that I miss you and I love you. I’ll be waiting for you when you get home.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to the alternate ending of The Princess and Her Queen Part 2. So, don't go in thinking the first story ended well. It did not.
> 
> Margot's folding knife: https://cdn1.bigcommerce.com/server3200/k2pame/products/42307/images/24157/spy_C12PBN__97144.1374793599.730.500.jpg?c=2


End file.
